Of Chocolate and Troll Legs
by Umbrella-ella
Summary: We all know how it goes: the girl falls in love with the boy. the girl gets the boy, the girl marries the boy, and they live happily ever after. For Remus and Tonks, however, things weren't that easy. But who says they didn't live happily ever after anyway? For the OTP Boot Camp Challenge.
1. Acrid

_A/N: Writer's block… It sucks. So that's why I'm doing the OTP Boot Camp Challenge. I will do my absolute best to update at least once every day or, if not that, every other day. _

_Disclaimer: If I were JK Rowling, I wouldn't need to write fanfiction, would I? Alas, I have not written a best-seller series, I have not changed countless millions of lives for the better, and I am not one of the richest women in the world. I have a cat, though. _

**OTP: Remus/Tonks**

**Prompt Word: Acrid (1/50)**

The stench was revolting; it pulled at Tonks' stomach, tying it into knots and twisting until it got so bad she wanted— _needed—_ to stop, daring her to press on into the battle before her. The smell of blood, death, and sweat was thick in the air, choking her. But still…

She had to go on.

Her husband was here, somewhere in the mass of swishing cloaks in the blend of blues, purples, reds, and greens.

There were too many green streaks of light. She knew what it meant, knew when a curse like that hit its mark. There was no screaming, no cries of horror before death. People fell soundlessly, men, women, and children alike. This spell did not discriminate— death claimed who it wished.

The smell of the battle was getting to her.

The piles of rubble, the burnt patches of grass, flames casting glimmers of shadows onto the faces of the brave fighters— it made her eyes itch with tears that would remain unshed.

She was an Auror.

Aurors did not cry.

An explosion rocked the grounds of her beloved school, and bits of what had once been a castle wall exploded outward, shards of stone and rubble raining down on the crowd outside.

It was a wonder she didn't trip, it was so damn dark.

Tonks hated the dark.

Darkness meant silence, darkness meant death.

She couldn't see much anymore, save for the occasional glow of a spell being sent her way.

Sweat dripped down her nose, into her eyes. The saltiness stung them.

Still she fought and ran, jabbing spells into the darkness, avoiding the bodies that lay askew on the ground, yet to be touched by the living. She looked down and her stomach coiled sharply. A boy, too young to be in the fight, lay unmoving on the patch of grass, his eyes wide open and face contorted in an awful, soundless scream. His pale hand still clung to his wand, which had been snapped in two.

Was Harry okay?

Of course he was. He was the boy who lived.

And he would soon be the man who conquered the Dark Lord.

That was what she prayed for every night, at least. Swiping at the tears and sweat on her face, she shook her head, pushing past clustered groups of fighters, listening as they battled.

Tonks ran on, weaving in and out of the crowds, dodging jets of light, the ground muffling the sound of her pounding feet. Streaks of light were coming at her faster than she could deflect them, and she didn't have time to stop and battle every Death Eater she saw.

Red. Duck

Blue. Sidestep.

Green. _Protego!_

She repeated this, again and again, stopping only when she saw him. Near the edge of the lake, close to the Whomping Willow, she watched as Remus fought. It was poetic really, the way he moved.

Fluid, swift, and light on his feet, just like a dancer.

Oh, what a dancer he was.

But this was no ballroom.

This was life or death.

She saw it in his eyes.

Her husband's hair was matted to his forehead, sweat shining on his forehead. His teeth were bared and his knuckles were white as his hand locked around his wand.

She drew her wand, her hand trembling. One wrong move… She froze as Remus faltered, and she knew it was over. His wand was sent flying out of his hand. Tonks made to move forward, to shout, to distract his attacker, but her feet were immobile and her voice jammed in her throat— it was as if her boots had sunk into the earth, as if her voice was gone.

She sent a jet of green towards Dolohov, but it was too late. Tonks watched as Remus fell, soundlessly, just like a doll, limp, his limbs contorting as he landed with a soft _thump _beneath the pitch black of a starless night sky.

She knew then.

She would not leave here tonight. She would die here, with her husband, his name on her lips. Tonks ran to his still form, kissed his forehead, smoothing his hair back neatly, and poised herself defensively in front her dead husband, ready to defend him with her last breath.

"_I love you, Remus."_ she whispered to the night.

Tonks clutched her wand tightly, watching intently as her aunt, sheathed in black, walked towards her.

"Hello, _Nymphadora._ Good to see you, dolly."

Tonks stood rigid, her face unforgiving and cold, and cast the first spell.

They fought, no niceties about it, sending curses shooting towards each other.

Tonks sent spell after spell at her aunt, waiting for the right moment, the right move. Bellatrix danced around her spells like a maniac, swiftly moving from one place to the next.

Then, with a flick of Bellatrix's wrist, with the acrid odor of sweat, battle, and blood lingering heavily in the air, it was over. Tonks fell to the ground next to her husband, her empty eyes staring up, unblinking, at the inky night above.

Around them, the battle raged on, but somewhere, tucked away in the countryside, was a house by the sea where a grandmother and her infant grandson awaited the return of the couple.

It would never come, for even in death, they remained together.

_A/N: Now, they won't all be this depressingly canon, but for this particular word, this scene wouldn't leave me alone. As angsty as it was, I hope you liked it, though! Leave a comment!_


	2. Whisper

_A/N: Oh, my goodness! Everyone's reviews were positively flattering! I can only hope I live up to those words of praise with this next prompt! On that note, let's get started shall we?_

_Disclaimer: If I were JK Rowling, I wouldn't need to write fanfiction, would I? Alas, I have not written a best-seller series, I have not changed countless millions of lives for the better, and I am not one of the richest women in the world. I have a cat, though. _

**OTP: Remus/Tonks**

**Prompt Word: Whisper (2/50)**

_June 17__th__, 1996_

It came as a whisper in the most unexpected of moments. There in the half-light of a dim, fog-lit night and the flickering of a few candles, she said it.

"I love you, Remus."

Really, he shouldn't have been awake at that point, but he had managed to stay awake for minutes more, simply wishing to remember every moment of their unexpected encounter and bask in the fact that her perfect _bare_ skin was pressed against his imperfect, yet equally bare skin. His calloused fingers traced invisible threads of light on her smooth shoulders and she burrowed closer, her nose brushing his collarbone. This, here.

It was perfect.

His body was slick with cooling sweat, and she had drawn the sheet halfway up their still, intertwined bodies. It had not happened the way he had imagined it would. He had planned to romance her, to take his time.

Hell, he hadn't even told Sirius yet.

Tonks was not traditional in any sense of the word— so when this had just _happened, _he shouldn't have been surprised.

She had suggested a walk in the park, and when one thing began to lead to another, they apparated with a _pop! _back to her flat, where they stumbled, fumbled, and clamored to Tonks' bedroom. Neither of them took any notice of the state of Tonks' room. As orderly as she tried to be, clothes were strewn about, stacks of books and files littered every available surface except the floor.

Spring cleaning.

At least that was what Tonks tried to tell Remus between heated kisses and wandering hands.

And then it just… happened.

It was wonderful.

As beautiful as Tonks was during the day, she was truly gorgeous in the moonlight, with her shy smile and her true form showing. Perhaps it was simply the fact that she could have anyone she wanted, and she chose to be here— in _his_ arms— that made her so achingly beautiful.

He told her so.

"Beautiful."

The word slipped out, smooth like honey— sweet, just like the taste of her lips.

Soon, between searing kisses and intoxicating sighs, they were lost in each other. Plans of romancing and courting were abandoned as Remus gave into the passion of having her, if just for one night.

And now here he was, listening to her breathing, wondering if he had heard her wrong, if he had somehow mistaken an unbidden sigh for those three dangerous words, frozen in shock.

_I love you. _

Of course she did.

Remus loved her just as much. But he couldn't. There was a stigma attached to being a werewolf in love, worse yet was the damning nature of being in love with a werewolf. He couldn't love her. He wouldn't ruin her life. He couldn't.

Tonks shifted lightly, curling her body into his side, and Remus' face contorted in pain at the very idea of leaving her. He let out a breath slowly.

He had to.

Waiting until the fog had obscured the moonlight and her face had fallen into shadow, the jaded werewolf slid out of her grasp, pausing only to gauge the space between her breaths to ensure that she was still asleep. Fumbling across the floor, he slipped on his shirt and quietly pulling on his pants, his wand having been safely stowed in his pocket. His tie had somehow gotten lost between the kitchen and the hallway, and now, in the dark, he couldn't find it. He didn't have time to look for it, didn't have time to think about what he was going to do. It would break her heart.

_He_ would break her heart.

He had to. He would ask Sirius what to do tomorrow, when the Order members left tomorrow.

And so, with one last look back towards the bedroom where Tonks lay, asleep and unsuspecting, Remus left her flat, shutting the door with a light click.

The door was hard and unforgiving as he stood in the hallway and stared at the small paint chip by the door handle.

"I love you too, Dora." he whispered.

Slowly, he turned and walked down the hall, his footsteps echoing long after he had disappeared from sight.

Soon the only indication that Remus was ever there that evening was the tie that he had left behind and the lingering whisper of those three words heard by no one but himself.

_A/N: Note to readers, I put the date at the top simply to indicate that this took place the day before Sirius died, so really, Remus had no chance to ask for guidance from his best friend. Again, so sorry that this is kind of depressing, but really, it all ends well (at least in my headcanon). I __**promise**__ that the next word/installment will be much cheerier! Leave your thoughts in the little box below!_


	3. Want

_A/N: I know. This is later than I thought it'd be, but I had to pick a word to fit, and I had so many ideas for each one that I couldn't! Anyhow, this has to be the happiest one I've written thus far. Enjoy the tooth-decaying fluff!_

_Disclaimer: If I were JK Rowling, I wouldn't need to write fanfiction, would I? Alas, I have not written a best-seller series, I have not changed countless millions of lives for the better, and I am not one of the richest women in the world. I have a cat, though. I also don't own Lord Byron's works, most especially not "She Walks In Beauty", which is positively fantastic, by the way, and you should go read it. After you read and reviewed this. _

**OTP: Remus/Tonks**

**Prompt Word: Want (3/50)**

The first time Remus realized that his feelings for Nymphadora Tonks went beyond friendship and traversed into the very dangerous territory of _those _sorts of feelings, he was alone in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place on a quiet January day, immersing himself in the poems of Lord Byron. Molly had taken Arthur to Diagon Alley, and Sirius had holed himself away, his holiday cheer evaporating quickly the moment Harry and his friends were off to school again.

Remus had stumbled across the book quite by mistake, searching for his favorite title in the library. The book, heavy and solid appealed to Remus' literary curiosity and he soon found himself making tea while he sat to read it. Flipping through, he noticed a page was slightly more frayed than the others. The page was worn and the edges slightly dog-eared, as if someone had snapped it shut quickly to hide what they had read. Obviously, someone had very much enjoyed that poem, so much so as to revisit it numerous times. Somehow, the thought of the poem had captured Remus' attention.

What was so peculiar about it? He resolved to find out.

As Remus' eyes passed over the beautifully scribed words, his heart raced with each passing line. He knew these feelings here.

There were no words to describe what he had felt, but this poem here, these words... He understood now.

Remus had often yearned to talk to her, just so he could hear her voice, see if she would laugh at a silly joke, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to try. She was everything he was not. She was everything he wanted. But he was simply being friendly, welcoming. Right? _No, you old fool…_

A thud startled him and the door to the kitchen flew open suddenly. Remus' eyes flickered up to meet the intruder in a glare.

Pink-cheeked and bright-eyed, Tonks stumbled through the door, stopping when she saw Remus alone. Remus snapped the book shut, covering the title with his hand. Oddly, he didn't want her to know he'd been reading it.

"Oh, wotcher, Remus. Bloody cold out. Any idea where Sirius is? He owes me a gaellon. He bet me, he did. Worst idea he's ever had! I told him Mary wore pink knickers…" Watching as Remus' expression of mortification turned to confusion, Tonks trailed off, content to ease his discomfort at hearing the grounds of the bet she had so expertly won.

"Erm… I can't say where he is right now. He seems to have been a bit, well, morose, lately. Harry went back and now he's shut himself away…" Remus' words tumbled out of his mouth, quickly and clumsily. Really, he was like a silly schoolboy. Clearing his throat, he prayed to Merlin that she wouldn't notice his cheeks, which had most certainly caught fire by now, what with the heat he felt rushing to them. Either she took no notice or cared enough to spare him the embarrassment of telling her his most inner secret.

Remus got up abruptly, turning to the counter to shield his reaction.

Instead of leaving the room, Tonks shuffled over to the cabinets, where Remus now stood, pouring himself more tea.

Opening the drawer, she grabbed a spoon and handed it to him.

At his questioning look, Tonks continued, "I see how much sugar you put in your tea."

"Are you accusing me of having too much sugar?" Remus smirked.

"No, of course not. I'm not about to comment on your constant tendencies to carry chocolate everywhere either." Tonks grinned, her smile striking in the light of the chandelier hanging above the table.

"Do you want… ahem… do you want some tea?" Remus was flustered.

"No, thanks." Tonks' smile grew, and she turned away.

Remus chuckled, joining his companion at the table. Tonks slid over next to him, watching as he sat. Glancing at the large tome, Tonks read the title aloud: "The Greatest Undiscovered Wizards of Poetry: An Anthology. Good choice, I like poetry."

"Do you? There's a fantastic one I've just read. Would you like to hear it?"

There it was. It was up to her.

"Sure."

Remus opened the book, flipping through the pages, until he came to the poem he was looking for. He began to read:

_She walks in beauty, like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
And all that's best of dark and bright  
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:  
Thus mellowed to that tender light  
Which heaven to gaudy day denies…_

Remus stopped then, his eyes looking up to gauge Tonks' reaction. Her hair had gone bright pink, and she was staring off dreamily. "I wish someone thought of me that way." This was it, this was his opportunity... Now or never.

He wanted her to be his.

He needed her to be by his side.

"I do— erm, they do. Of course they do." Remus cleared his throat, feigning a coughing fit.

"You… what did you say?" Tonks stared at Remus, wide-eyed.

"I said… I do." he sighed, studying the tabletop with intense scrutiny.

"You do?" Tonks grinned, his head still bent to the table.

Remus took a deep breath. Lifting his head to meet her gaze, he was given a glimmer of hope when she smiled at him. Grinning, he replied once more, "I do."

All that was needed was to reach out and take her hand.

Reaching across the large table, he took it, running his thumb across her smooth knuckles.

She didn't pull away. His heart pounded in his chest, thudding against his ribcage.

"I feel the same, but for the record, can you say so sooner next time?" She laughed.

"I hope there won't be a next time, Tonks." Remus smiled.

"You can call me Dora."

_A/N: I hope it wasn't too terrible, but it was all I could think of. I know it's not my best, but leave the feedback in the little box below._


	4. Helpless

_A/N: I'm feeling highly prolific today. I've had some notes written for a while, little snippets of each idea for the word prompts, but I've had trouble extending them into actual chapters/oneshots. Nevertheless, here we are, on chapter four of 'Of Chocolate and Troll Legs'. I love this word so much! There are so many places to go with it! Granted, any word could go any which way when there are no limitations, but even so, this one was fun to write. _

_Disclaimer: If I were JK Rowling, I wouldn't need to write fanfiction, would I? Alas, I have not written a best-seller series, I have not changed countless millions of lives for the better, and I am not one of the richest women in the world. I have a cat, though._

**OTP: Remus/Tonks**

**Prompt Word: Helpless (4/50)**

Dora had a habit of morphing back into her natural form whenever the two of them were alone together. It was one of Remus' favorite things about their relationship; it spoke of the trust she had in him, that she could let her guard down enough to show him who she truly was. And he loved every inch of her.

Remus made a point of telling her every day, with and without words.

Sometimes, he would catch himself staring at her when he should have been intently focusing on his latest draft of the pro-werewolf legislation he'd been working on. Often, when he was reading a novel, the words would blur and he would instead watch as his wife chased Teddy around the sitting room.

One cool April evening saw Remus and Dora on the front porch of their modest home in the countryside, sitting together, her feet victim to her husband's ministrations.

The day had been hectic; Teddy was sick, and on top of that, Dora was tired of being stuck behind a desk for the remainder of her pregnancy and had come home crying uncontrollably.

"You know, I like you best this way." Remus spoke, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the spring night. Her brown hair shone in the soft glow of the stars, and her hair seemed to be crowned with a ring of light. Even in the darkness, he knew her eyes were her natural brown.

"What? Fat and ugly?" Dora frowned, her eyes glinting in the darkened eve.

"No. I think you're beautiful." Remus offered a crooked smile, and through the dark, he could make out the slight lift of his wife's mouth. He reached to stroke her hair, letting it thread through his fingers.

"Really?"

"Yes. There is nothing more beautiful than watching you chase Teddy around the house because he's lost his diaper." He laughed a little as he spoke, but from the chuckle that resonated from Dora, he knew she'd remembered that evening.

"I hardly think there's anything beautiful about a baby gone starkers and a waddling cow trying to catch him." She let out a derisive snort and pulled her feet off of his lap, tucking them beneath her.

"Hey now, that's my wife you're talking about. And I think that this—our daughter— is the most beautiful thing in the world." He laid his hand on her protruding belly and leaned towards his wife, cupping her cheek with his free hand. "Besides you of course." He smirked, feeling her breath mingle with his.

"And who says I'm beautiful?" Dora questioned, shifting into a more comfortable position, expecting to wait for awhile. She pulled away and he knew that she was flustered.

"Only the best-known authors of the Wizarding world, of course." Remus crinkled his nose at her.

"Oh?" Intriguing, his wife leaned forward, her hand coming to rest on the swell of her pregnancy. His eyes were drawn downwards, coming to settle on her hand, the plain wedding band she refused to put a diamond on shining in the dark.

"Indeed," he grinned widely, leaning to whisper in her ear, "there are stories you know, of helpless men doomed to fall before beautiful women. I fear I may be one such man." He let out a delighted chuckle when she shivered.

"And am I one of those women?" Dora blinked up expectantly, waiting for him to respond.

"Oh, you most certainly are, my love. Bewitching, indeed." he murmured as he closed the slight gap between them, briefly touching his lips to hers.

Pulling away, he smiled at his delighted wife.

"Most definitely."

Remus held Dora for a few minutes until she began to shiver. He led her inside and she sat as he made a fire.

"Wait, what authors are you talking about?" Dora smiled, watching her husband's muscles flex beneath his thin shirt as he readied the fire.

"Oh, just me." He grinned over his shoulder, ducking as she tossed the pillow at him.

"Cheeky bastard." she grumbled, folding her arms in mock annoyance.

"Beautiful wife." he grinned, his teeth showing as he plopped down next to her.

"Oi! Was this your way of trying to get me into bed?"

"Really, it's more trying to get you out of your clothes."

"For what it's worth, it's working." Dora leaned forward and kissed every part of him she could reach.

Remus chuckled and his response was quickly lost.

Yes, he was indeed helpless against his wife. And that wasn't exactly a bad thing, either.

He certainly wasn't complaining.

_A/N: So, I like this one a lot. But I'd like to know what you think, so please leave your reviews in the little box below!_


	5. Fascinated

_A/N: I'm highly flattered to have gotten such high praise in the reviews and would like to dedicate this story to those of you who have reviewed from the beginning! Thank you! And thank you to the new reviewers as well; you encourage me to continue. Anyway, this one is more of a family bonding moment than anything, but I felt it appropriate to have such a defining moment in Remus' life matched with this word. There are mentions of religion, but religion doesn't play a huge part in the story as a whole. _

_Disclaimer: If I were JK Rowling, I wouldn't need to write fanfiction, would I? Alas, I have not written a best-seller series, I have not changed countless millions of lives for the better, and I am not one of the richest women in the world. I have a cat, though._

**OTP: Remus/Tonks**

**Prompt Word: Fascinated (5/50)**

Remus John Lupin was not by any means a religious man. He had seen too much war, too much death to put stock in any sort of faith. But here, now, in this moment, he believed in God. Who else would have blessed him with this tiny joy in life?

It was late, just past one in the morning, and Dora was sleeping quietly, her brown hair strewn across the pillow, and her heart-shaped face illustrated in a peaceful countenance that warmed Remus' heart. He sat in the corner of the room, rocking in the chair beside the window, watching the clouds blot out the pinpricks of light that danced in the summer night air.

A small cry issued from the bundle in his arms and he looked down at the squirming baby swaddled in pink. He smiled. Fascinating was the word he might use to describe his daughter— ten little fascinating fingers, ten fascinating little toes— really, he could go on for ages, but to define her was impossible. Indescribable, his feelings were light and heady, much like the effects of a muggle drug. A beautiful baby girl, so small and perfect, and so wonderfully his.

Arabella Madeline Lupin.

A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

A tuft of brown, curly hair peeked out from beneath the brim of the pink knit cap that covered her head, and her eyes opened, revealing the brightest pair of deep chocolate eyes he'd ever seen. A toothless smile erupted on her porcelain face, her two dimples already working their magic. Remus grinned down at her, and he nuzzled her soft cheek.

She truly was beautiful, and if she was anything like his wife, she'd certainly be a handful when she grew up.

Remus grimaced, thinking of the future, of young men and the courtships that would someday follow. But— he shook his head— that was not yet here. Arabella was here, now, in his arms, content to snuggle deeper into the swathes of downy cotton as she sighed, her little body giving way to the exhaustion of a being newborn child. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and all of the Weasleys had been by earlier, and Andromeda and Teddy had stayed for awhile longer, before Teddy started to fuss in his grandmother's hold and they too, departed. The night had fallen quickly, and Dora held Arabella one last time before drifting into a well-deserved restful sleep.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she nested deeper in her covers, shifting in Remus' arms.

Remus sighed lightly, and he knew that in this moment, here now, a father could know no greater joy than to hold his child in the quiet of the summer's night.

He closed his eyes and leaned back, images of a dimply, curly-haired Arabella bouncing through the sunflowers as her brother tried to teach her how to hover on a broom running through his mind, playing like old films.

Suddenly, time had shifted, and there she was again, older this time, Arabella's face having lost its childish roundness, and he stood next to her, walking with her, a faceless man waiting to take her hand at the end of the aisle. And there Dora was, in all her splendor, slightly older, but just as beautiful as the day they met, dabbing her eyes with a tissue as he held her and cried silent tears of his own, watching as his daughter, his little girl, say her vows to a man whose face he could not see.

Remus jerked awake, his eyes popping open, and then closing just as quickly in an attempt to shut out the invading sunlight. Taking a moment to assess his surroundings, he panicked when he realized he was no longer holding his daughter. His knees cracked loudly as he stood up, sharply looking around, trying to determine if babies could actually crawl this early.

"Relax, Remus," Dora chuckled from an unknown spot in the room, "you worry too much." He blinked and then saw his wife sitting up in bed, her hair spiked in a vibrant yellow hue, holding their daughter.

"Oh, yes, little Bella, Daddy does worry often, doesn't he?", his beloved whispered conspiratorially to her daughter with a crooked smile.

Pressing a light kiss to Arabella's forehead, Dora watched as her husband crossed the room, ignoring the abnormally painful crick in his neck.

Her hand came up to cup his cheek as she looked up at him, Arabella smiled, unaware of the tender moment. Tears filled Dora's eyes, and she blinked, moving to wipe them away, but apparently decided against it.

"Thank you, Remus. Thank you for everything." A watery smile and a swift but meaningful kiss followed these words in quick succession.

A nervous laugh emitted from his wife's mouth, and he bent to sit next to her on the bed.

"I'm sorry, I'm such a mess." Her cheeks went rosy with embarrassment, and she ducked her head, instead focusing on the baby.

"No, you aren't. I think you're beautiful. Our daughter certainly doesn't get her good looks from me." Remus laughed. Dora cuddled closer to her husband and bounced Arabella slightly, causing the infant to gurgle and smile her toothless smile.

"Fascinating, isn't she?" Dora spoke.

Remus simply smiled in reply.

_A/N: So, what do you think? Feel free to leave a review and remember: writers love feedback!_


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